Forgive
by Nissen
Summary: Norway (Sigurd) is being held captured by his older brother Denmark (Mathias), who violates and abuses him. Sigurd eventually makes up another personality which he names Sindre (2P!). WARNING: Contains rape, abuse and self harm.


"Did you see the aura?"

"No, I didn't…"

"That's too bad. It was beautiful.."

"I bet it was.."

He sat alone. Alone in the room. The bedroom. His brother's bedroom. His older brother's bedroom. He was not there. That's why he was alone. Sort of. He had his other self. What do you call it? His second personality.. that's what you call it. He had invented another self to pretend himself from turning completely mad from the loneliness. He had given his other self a name. Sindre.

Norway, Sigurd, was held captured by Denmark. The older and much stronger nation held him chained and locked up, while he conquered other countries, bigger lands and nations. He especially held the beautiful blonde Nordic captured. Because he loved him. Denmark loved Norway. Mathias loved Sigurd. Somehow, Sigurd was lucky. He could have ended up in the dungeon. The deep and dark dungeon. He would much rather be in the deep and dark dungeon. It was probably better than this bedroom. Though the bedroom was warm and comfortable. But if Sigurd was in the dungeon, he would be out of his brother's "caring hands", as he called them. Caring? Sigurd had to laugh. Caring was not the word. Not a word you used about abuse, violation and rape. Every day… or… as often as the Dane wanted to.

"Do you think you'll ever get out of here?"

"I do, ja.."

"When? I'm fucking tired of being here!"

"I don't know… and… I'm sorry.." Sigurd said before he hit the wall above the fireplace with his fist, causing his knuckles to bleed. He tried not to show his anger. But it was difficult. How did you do that? He'd been here for too long. Far too long to know how to behave around other people. Other people than his brother. He knew how to behave around his brother. Just stay still, and not scream or struggle. That's what he did. Or else he would be hit. Hit really hard. He didn't want to get hit. It hurt. A lot.

"Is he coming tonight too?"

"He's always coming... you know that..." Sigurd looked at himself in the mirror. He always sat on the floor, looking at himself in a mirror which stood up against a wall, next to the bed. It was the only company he had. His own reflection. He could see his other personality. Sindre. He didn't tell anyone else about him. Sigurd kept Sindre to himself.

What would Mathias do if he knew his little "pet" had gone mad? Throw him away? Or would he just ignore it? So many questions… he would never get any answers to them. He could think of some answers… but he just shook his head to get rid of the thoughts.

When the sun had set, his brother entered the bedroom. Right on time. He was never late. Never. He always entered the room right after the sun had set. And that was the time of the day when Sigurd was afraid the most. He sat on the bed, hugging his knees, trembling and shaking. His eyes was filled with fear and anger. The Dane grabbed the Norwegian and without a word, he did what he always did. Violated him. Raped him. Sigurd could tell from the look in the Dane's eyes that he had been fighting today… and had probably lost. Since he was more rough than usual. Not because he used to be gentle. At all.

When Sigurd woke up the next morning, the spot next to him was empty. It always was. His cheeks were still a bit red from the slaps he had gotten last night. He had been crying. His brother didn't like that, so he made him stop. Using his own methods. He lay down on the pillow and curled up. Bad idea. His lower back hurt as fuck. He buried his face in the pillow… and screamed. As loud as he could. The pillow would stop the noise so nobody could hear him.

"You're pathetic…"

"I don't need your opinion. Just shut up!"

"I would like to see you try…"

Sigurd sighed. Sindre was getting more and more loud in his head. He almost took up all the space. Sigurd could no longer remember how long he had been in this room. Did he have another brother? He somehow seemed to remember another special person. Did he have any friends? He somehow seemed to remember two other figures… but he wasn't sure. He shook his head as he used to do to get the thoughts out of his head. He stood up and walked to the bathroom which was connected to the bedroom. He stepped into the bathtub and sat in it, while it got filled with water by the servants in the house. He just looked down. He knew that if he looked the servants in their eyes, they would look at him with disgust. One of the other servants had called Sigurd names. Seems like Mathias had found out about it, because the servant was nowhere to be seen anymore. At all.

When the maids had filled his bath, they left him. He was alone again. Or almost. Sindre was still here. Sigurd looked up at the mirror over the bathtub.

"Did you see how they looked at you?" The other personality grinned.

"You know I never look at them…" Sigurd said, and hugged his knees in the bath.

"Too bad. You should have seen their faces. They don't even think of you as another person anymore. To them, you're just some pet they have to look after then its master isn't around. They hate you!"

Sigurd threw a brush at the mirror and made it fall to the floor. It broke into 17 pieces. The other personality laughed wildly in the many pieces.

"Pathetic! Pathetic! You're absolutely pathetic!" Sindre laughed.

Sigurd looked down at the water in the bathtub. A little while after, he let the razorblade fall to the floor as the water was coloured red. Sindre still laughed as loud as ever, yelling the word 'pathetic' over and over again.

"You don't dare to live anymore? Are you that weak? Pathetic!" Sindre's screams began to have a touch of cries in them.

"You're leaving everything behind?! What about your little brother?! You're just going to leave him to this monster of a big brother? You're the worst scum I've ever know! Wake up you bastard! You're pathetic!" Sindre screamed from the broken pieces on the floor.

Sigurd? Well, he just lay in the bathtub and stared at the wall next to him, away from the broken mirror on the floor. His left wrist lay in the water and caused it to change its colour. And then he passed out. He could hear the screams from Sindre… but they slowly faded away in his mind. It became blurry and finally… it all became dark.

He woke up again. He didn't know if he should feel relieved that he didn't kill himself, or if he should feel scared now. His older brother must be very angry now. The first thing he saw was the ceiling. He recognized that part of the ceiling. He was lying in the bed he used to spend his time in. He could feel his body… it was nice and comfortable. And warm. He could see the fireplace from his spot. The fire looked as beautiful as ever before. He suddenly heard a noise next to him, and he quickly looked over to his other side.

Mathias. He was sleeping against the edge of the bed. Peacefully. Sigurd had to blink a bit. He looked back up at the ceiling. He heard no voice in his head anymore. Where did Sindre go? He looked back at his brother… did he dare to touch him? The man who had been holding him captured and violated him whenever he wanted to? He hesitated a little, before he carefully placed his hand on the Dane's arm. It made Mathias wake up very suddenly and Sigurd jumped a bit back. In the next second, a well-known sound was heard through the room, and Sigurd felt his right cheek getting warmer. He shouldn't have woken the Dane up. What was he thinking of? Of course everything would be just as it used to. Maybe get even worse now. In the following seconds Sigurd felt a long lost feeling of the warmth of another person's body, carefully embracing him. He blinked and stared at the air as his brother hugged him. He felt warm water hit his skin on his shoulder.

"I am so sorry, Norge. I am so very, very sorry!" Mathias said… crying. It sounded as if he was crying. And the tears proved Sigurd's theory.

Sigurd almost couldn't believe his own ears. Mathias was sorry for the way he had been treating his younger brother? Why? Because Sigurd had tried to commit suicide? He didn't really know. He just closed his eyes and hugged his brother. He dared to now. He really dared to.

He dared to forgive him.


End file.
